


AziraphOwl

by arwenevenstar202



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Animal Transformation, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Love confessions (sort of), M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:02:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27520450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arwenevenstar202/pseuds/arwenevenstar202
Summary: Crowley gets to know his angel, in a different form. Quick, sweet little one-shot.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 44





	AziraphOwl

Aziraphale made the mistake of bringing it up, and Crowley was not going to let it go.

“Animal form? Didn’t know angels had animal forms…”

Crowley was leaning in toward him with that all-too-familiar look of curiosity, thinly veiled, even by his dark sunglasses. The angel sighed, wishing he could've avoided this conversation for a few more centuries, at least.

“Well, an angel's alternate forms is just that…an alternate. They are secondary to us, rather than being part of our primary composition. Your animal nature is imprinted on your very essence, my dear. You need to transform from time to time. It’s who you ARE, and that’s quite a different thing. On the contrary, I rarely even bother to transform once in a millennium.

Crowley seemed only to be half-listening, bursting with the obvious question:

“Well… what is it, then?”

“What’s what?” Aziraphale replied, shifting uncomfortably.

“What is your animal form? I’ve never seen it.”

“Well…why on earth does that matter? It’s really of no consequence… ”

“No consequence? Come on, angel” Crowley’s throat made one of those indistinguishable noises. “How long have we known each other? Six thousand years, and you think you know someone…You’ve been holding out on me.”

“I have done no such thing, Crowley.”

“You don’t WANT me to know!”

“Crowley, you’re being absurd. It’s just an animal form, and nothing special at that. Just think. It is the total opposite of yours.”

Crowley’s face screwed up in disdain.

“Oi, you’re a bloody BIRD, aren’t you? Of COURSE you’re a bird… bit obvious, really.”

“Well yes, but that’s not ALL.”

Crowley wore an expression which, despite the sunglasses on his face, registered slight annoyance.

Aziraphale sighed. He hadn’t ever been particularly proud of his other incarnation, but he supposed it might explain things more fully, if he just transformed.

So he did. Where a mild-mannered bookshop owner had once sat, there now manifested a smallish owl with wide blue eyes, which perched on back of the park bench. It blinked at him, puffing out its mottled tan and rust-colored feathers. It craned its neck to one side, staring, and gave a single hoot.

Crowley’s face changed from annoyance to something distinctly more fond. He offered the “AziraphOwl” (because that is exactly what he was going to call it from now on), an arm to perch on, and he happily obliged, hopping down from the edge of the bench, with hardly a wing-flap.

Crowley raised an eyebrow, questioningly, and AziraphOwl’s neck craned toward him. He moved two fingers to the top of the owl’s head, and ran them gently across the delicate feathers there.

The owls’ large blue eyes seemed to lose focus, and Crowley was encouraged to scratch the back of its head, and run his fingers gently down its back, and through its wings. He was a disarmingly cute little thing, with the softest and fluffiest feathers imaginable.

The ang-owl (Crowley had to repress a joyful hiss) eventually closed its eyes, completely lost in sensation. Crowley hoped he wasn’t crossing some sort of line, but he noted that Aziraphale seemed extremely content.

They stayed that way for well over a half-hour, before Aziraphale transformed back into his human form, and resumed his usual seated position on the bench next to Crowley. A small tan feather landed on Crowley’s lap, and Crowley instantly palmed it, to keep it from blowing away in the slight breeze, and certainly not because he wanted a memento of this occasion.

“Well? What do you think?” Aziraphale asked.

Crowley spoke, desperate to maintain an air of nonchalance after casually petting his friend.

“An owl. Well, that’s alright, then. Explains a few things.” He blurted.

“Technically, an Eastern Screech Owl…. And what things, specifically?” Aziraphale inquired curiously.

“Ngk. Well, they don’t sleep at night. Their primary obsession is food...” Crowley teased. “And they’re not all that bright.”

Aziraphale huffed, pouting ever-so-slightly. “Owls have an earthly reputation for wisdom, I’ll have you know.”

Crowley chuckled. “That’s because the humans out-bird-brain the birds.”

“Well, we can’t all be beautiful and serpentine, can we?”

Crowley’s head snapped around so fast, he began to wonder if he’d once been an owl himself.

“ _What_?”

“Well, snakes are graceful, colorful, strong and purposeful, subtle but dangerous. Quite lovely, really.”

Crowley stared at him, unbelieving. “Snakes are not _lovely_ , angel. I’m damned to crawl on my belly for a reason”

Aziraphale dismissed the demonic input with the wave of a hand. “You’re quite fetching as a snake. Why do you think I booped you on the nose, in the Garden, that day?”

Crowley could hardly hear him at this point. A very uncharacteristic blush had crept all the way from his neck to his cheeks.

“I didn’t think you remembered that.”

“Well, of course I do, dear. You were the First and Only snake at the time. Who else could it have been? Lovely, golden eyes. Slit pupils, glistening red and black scales. Truly unique. ” He practically whispered the last part, and smiled so softly at Crowley that he almost found it painful. “I love your snake form.”

Crowley opened his mouth and closed it again without uttering a sound. It was the closest either of them had come to admitting that this thing between them had a name. A powerful name.

Once upon a time, Crowley had moved too fast. He would not make that mistake again here. He met Aziraphale’s eyes with quiet conviction.

“I think I’m rather fond of the owl too, actually…”

Aziraphale smiled knowingly.

“I had rather guessed that, my dear boy.”

**Author's Note:**

> I know, it's short, and kinda random. :) But I just couldn't get the image of the eastern screech owl out of my head. (Yes, I know they do not have blue eyes.)
> 
> The photo in the middle of this article just has a weirdly Aziraphale vibe to me : http://www.lakemetroparks.com/along-the-trail/october-2019/getting-to-know-eastern-screech-owls
> 
> Be gentle. It's only the second fic I've ever posted anywhere. :) 
> 
> Edit: (I realized the pronouns were all over the damn place. Fixed!)


End file.
